Room Service

"You big man, you fill my little pussy good."

I'm not going to brag and say I am generously endowed in that department, about average I would say by European standards, but perhaps somewhat larger than an average Asian man. She struggled a little to accommodate my girth, but soon her flesh fully engulfed mine. Her pubic bone pressed hard against mine as she leaned forwards and bracing her arms against my chest she rode me hard and fast.

This was not a bouncy ride with my cock thrusting in and out of the pussy, her body was pressed hard down against me, with my cock locked deep inside her, moving back and forth, her strong inner muscles squeezing and milking me. She wanted me to cum, and she wanted me to cum fast. For her, at least, now it was a matter of urgency.

With this kind of treatment I had little or no chance of holding back. Very soon my breathing became hard as I felt the pressure building inside me. I thrust my hips up, bodily lifting her from the bed, but still she bore down on me, now with even more urgency. With a long deep sigh I gave into the inevitable, my cock was filled with fire, then the sweet joy of release as my juice pumped out of me. I shook with the ecstasy of orgasm. Still she rode me, slowing now, coaxing, milking me dry, and draining my balls of all they had to give.

Drained and sated I began to drift towards sleep, but at this moment sleep was not allowed. She kissed my lightly on the forehead, and with a deft move of her hand to make sure the condom didn't slip off before she wanted it to, parted our bodies.

She stood, and taking my hand pulled me off the bed too, then gathering up the towels lead me towards the bathroom. We showered together; first she washed me, and then herself, also discretely disposing of the used rubber somewhere during the process.

Clean and refreshed we returned to the bedroom, she to dress, and me to rest. As she gathered her things I signed the slip for the official part of my massage and found the money for her tip. These notes I folded and tucked under her bra strap, which caused her to treat me to another of her delightful giggles.

Dressed, primly covered once again in that terrible overall she checked that all was in order before the last, oddly formal, act of our liaison. She bowed to me and with outstretched hands, fingers and thumbs delicately holding two corners she presented me with a business card. I accepted her card and returned her bow with a nod, as is correct.

"If you want more massage you ask for me, yes?"

With a smile, and the merest hint of a wink, she turned and slipped out of the room.

Left alone again I turned her card in my hands, on the back was a hand written note "for a special nice man xxx" and a phone number. I hope my work schedule allows me time for another massage, and perhaps next time without having to pay the hotel's charges and more importantly without their time restrictions.